


Sweet, Sweet Americana

by origincountry



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: 1950's AU, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angsty?, Bullying, Era appropriate social issues, First Love, First Time, Gore, Horror, M/M, Mystery, POV Alternating(eventually), Slow Build, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6455266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/origincountry/pseuds/origincountry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school is difficult, moving is difficult—moving to a new high school is <i>especially</i> difficult. <i>Especially</i> when you're a scrawny gay nerd who can’t help but crush on a certain gorgeous blond jock with mysterious ties to the demented school bullies. </p><p>Billy Kaplan didn’t know what to expect when his family decided to move to the small town of Lehnsherrberg, Maine; but being drawn into a baffling spree of gruesome occult murders was definitely not on the radar. Can Billy and his rag-tag group of misfit friends stop history from repeating itself—all the while undermining the bullies’ social stranglehold on the school—or will this Harvest Festival be just as gruesome as those of years long past?</p><p><b>AKA</b> The 1950’s B-Movie Horror/Mystery AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet, Sweet Americana

Bells rung out heavy from somewhere above, breaking the ominous silence. Their blunt, deep calls felt familiar and somewhat frightening. Each ring reverberated through Billy’s mind, making it hard to think; to even form a coherent thought. _Where am I?_

The sound of bells ceased abruptly, echoing calls slowly fading into the lifeless air. As the sound died in his ears, Billy found he could think once more. Other sounds started rushing in to fill the void the bells had left behind. A soft murmuring of voices, muffled as if through glass or water. The distinct patter of rain on a window, louder now that he recognized what it was. The rain was something to focus on, something to distract him from— _from what exactly?_ He couldn’t recall, a sense of dread filling his gut.

Billy’s stomach clenched as he realized he couldn’t see anything. Was that why he was fixating on sounds like some sort of weirdo? The question struck a chord in Billy’s memory, he _was_ a weirdo; or more accurately, he was a _freak._ Intense sadness and despair washed over Billy’s mind like waves over sand, he was used to those words. They were words that had followed him throughout his life, drilled into his brain through the hallways and classrooms of home. He let them settle deep into his psyche, resigned to the truth behind them. _How long have I been here?_

The sounds slowly faded away, leaving Billy in an oppressive timeless silence. Microseconds could be minutes and an hour could be a hundred years, there was no way to know. 

The sounds came flooding back, this time with a worrying amount of force. The air stirred around him, but the sudden cacophony still felt miles away. The distant murmuring of voices grew louder and more agitated—maybe even excited. Tentative whispers swept past Billy through the eternal void, driftwood of sound on a surface-less black ocean.

He felt someone fumble with his sleeve. Dexterous fingers were prodding his skin as if Billy was a prime slab of meat. The hand slowly slid up Billy’s arm to rest at the base of his neck. Those fumbling fingers grasped something lying around his shoulders. He hadn’t even noticed the weight of the canvas bag enclosing his head until it had been yanked off in a single violent motion.

The world was made up of hazy blotches of color, everything a shade of grey or blue. A shape was moving in front of him, a blob of black velvet and peach skin. The distinct stench of bile hung heavy in the stagnant air. _WHACK!_ For a brief moment the world came into focus. 

He was in a dark, cavernous room lined with wood paneling. Hazy blue light filtered in through tall rain-streaked windows, musty curtains hung limply from cast-iron rods. Billy could see that the black and peach blob was in fact a man sitting behind a raised desk made of beautifully polished dark wood. He was setting down an intricately carved gavel, which explained the sharp noise that had jolted everything into reality. He was talking, but Billy could only hear a distant muffled murmur escape the man’s greasy lips. He gesticulated violently, pointing straight at Billy multiple times. His fingers were pudgy and covered in soot. _Am I on trial?_

The judge was wearing a black coat with silver buttons filing down his gratuitous stomach. A white powdered wig of rolled curls sat atop his bulbous head. The contrast between the white of his hair and the black of his coat was jarring. Billy’s eyes couldn't focus on both at the same time. 

As Billy was studying the man’s appearance, their eyes met. The judge’s mouth convulsed into a venomous sneer, his jowls shaking with disgust. His eyes were dark; filled with fury and hate, but Billy could discern the fear hiding behind those powerful emotions. 

He had seen enough. Billy wanted to cry and scream, but couldn’t. He tried to move, tried to get away and escape, but his body was unresponsive. He didn’t feel bound or gagged, but rather he felt like he inhabited a suit of flesh he couldn’t control. He couldn’t even avert his eyes from the judge, or even blink. All he could do was stare as the world seemed to slow to a stop. 

The judge’s dark eyes filled his vision, consuming him. Billy felt himself fall deeper and deeper into their hate-filled realm, the rest of the courtroom blurring and falling behind.

The distant murmuring of voices rose once more, quicker now than before and filled with acute anxiety. The bells started to ring again, this time they sounded different, quicker and sharper—the noise growing louder and louder with every passing moment.

_“Erik!”_ A woman’s voice pierced through the murmuring only to be drowned out by the shrill clang of bells.

 

-o-

 

Billy jolted upright in his bed, his sheets wet with sweat. He was breathing heavily; Billy felt as if the air had been sucked right out of his lungs. He caught his breath and remembered his surroundings. Lazy early morning light drifted in through the windows above his bed, passing through the sheer white curtains covering them, dappling his room in a pleasant warm glow. 

His room was large and airy. An ornate brass chandelier hung from an intricately pressed medallion mounted to the center of the eleven-foot-high ceiling. Low wainscoting marched around the edge of the room, hidden here and there by the many bookcases backed up against the walls. Silver wallpaper peeked out from behind the countless sketches and drawings of local architecture Billy had produced in his short time living there. The partial circle of a tower protruded out from one corner of the room. Billy had positioned his desk there, the four arched windows of the tower providing wonderful natural light. Last night he had stacked the rest of his boxes on his desk, forcing his future-self to unpack if he wanted to use it to draw.

_This place barely feels like home._

His Mickey Mouse alarm clock was going berserk on his nightstand. Billy quickly shut off the alarm, the bakelite surface smooth beneath his fingers. 

He flopped back into his bed, staring at the intricate lincrusta pattern of octagons, squares, and flowers that made up the ceiling of his room. Billy allowed his foggy mind to wander back to the nightmare he had just experienced, trying to commit it to memory before it was lost forever.

It had felt so _real_ , he could still feel those eyes boring deep into his body. The thought of that man made him shutter. The immensity of hate in his eyes—their shark-like darkness accusing Billy of some crime he didn’t commit; there wasn't any hint of empathy or even pity behind them. What could he have done to warrant such intense loathing? Maybe his brain was trying to remind him that he shouldn't reveal a certain secret that he’s been hiding for as long as he can remember, that he shouldn't entrust it to anyone. That if he did, he would see that searing hate and disgust in everyone’s eyes.

No, he didn't need a dream to be reminded of that fact—not to mention that woman’s voice shouting at him in the end. She had called him Erik, despite the obvious name difference, he knew she was speaking to _him_. He just knew it.

A crisp knock on his door, “Billy?” He heard his mother’s gentle voice through the solid redwood. “Are you awake?”

“Yes!” Billy called as he scrambled to a sitting position on the edge of his bed; trying his best to hide the feeling of distress that permeated his body since waking up. The door opened and his mother strode into the room. 

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she walked over to Billy’s bed. The string of white pearls around her neck rolled gently over her aristocratic clavicles, matching earrings swaying beneath her short wavy brown hair. She was wearing a lovely yellow sundress emblazoned with small white flowers, one of her favorites if Billy was remembering correctly. 

Billy looked up at her and met her expectant smile with a groggy scowl, “Come to drag me down to hell?”

Rebecca Kaplan sat next to her son, smoothing her skirt as she did so. “Yes, if you call breakfast with your loving family ‘hell.’ But don’t use such language, it’s not gentlemanly in the slightest,” she chided, turning to look at Billy.

Billy looked down at his hands, not wanting to meet her eyes. “What is it? You only come into my room if you have something to tell me.” Billy already knew why she was there, but he had learned as a child that feigning ignorance in regards to his mother was always the best approach. 

She reached out and grasped Billy’s thigh and squeezed it lightly, a brief smile dancing over her face. “Oh Billy, I just wanted to wish you luck on your first day of school! Senior year is a big step to adulthood.” She pursed her lips and continued, “You’ve been such a well behaved young man through this move Billy, your father and I appreciate you a lot. I know moving away from your friends—” Billy interrupted with an artful groan. “—and the environment you grew up with can be difficult if not a bit tedious, but your father has been so grateful for your support.”

Billy glanced over at his mother. He accidentally met her intent eyes, causing a bemused expression to spread over her features.

“It’s no big deal mom, you know I didn't really have any friends,” he mumbled, looking back down at his hands.

“About that dear, please, oh please, try to make some friends this year? We have to fit in, for your father’s sake. That means we have to be the ideal family, it means that you have to be social!” She let go of his thigh and stood up in a swift motion, soothing the creases in her dress as she moved to the door. “Please come down for breakfast before your bus comes, I’ve made pancakes and bacon for your big day!”

Billy sighed, looking up at his mother as she reached for the door. “I’ll be right down mom, just give me a few minutes.” His mother met his eyes and gave a small, sad smile as she closed the door behind her.

 

-o-

 

Billy quickly took a shower in the bathroom he shared with his brother Jacob, spent a few minutes fussing over his unruly black hair, and then started to get dressed. He decided upon a simple red and yellow plaid button-up underneath his favorite maroon sweater, with dark brown oxfords completing the outfit. He took the nice brown canvas satchel his friend Richie gave him as a going away gift, and stuffed it with some notebooks and pencils. Swinging it over his shoulder, Billy Kaplan was finally ready to face the world! Well, he was trying his best to hold himself together—pushing a creeping feeling of anxiety to the far recesses of his mind. 

He opened his door and walked down the hall to the winding main staircase. He loved this staircase, his hand reflexively reaching for the carved dark wood banister. As he began his descent Billy let his hand brush over the silk smooth undulating curves of the wood, its touch calming his nerves. Embedded at the end of the banister, right by the final step, was a brass statuette of a young woman picking flowers and leading a couple of lambs with a rope. Her eyes were empty sockets, the realtor had said the previous owners removed the fine gems that used to stare out at the front door. Billy felt her face briefly, fingers finding the gaping holes where her eyes should've been, and then headed to the kitchen.

The smell of fresh pancakes and bacon reached Billy’s nose causing him to smile. He eagerly took a seat at the breakfast table, propping his satchel against the nearest leg. The table was set into a large bay window extending from the main body of the house, bright light draping it in warmth. His father was hidden behind that day’s copy of the Boston Globe, occasionally flipping the paper to continue reading. On the other side of the table his two brothers, Isaac and Jacob, were bickering over something menial and unimportant.

“Here you go sweetie,” Billy’s mother said in a cheery voice as she set down a steaming plate in front of him. “Orange juice?” She asked, already opening the refrigerator to get the bottle before receiving a response.

“Yeah, that sounds swell,” Billy responded, noticing that Jacob was eyeing his plate with incredulity.

“Hey mom! Why does Billy get _two_ pancakes and _two_ slices of bacon when Isaac and me only get _one?!_ ” He quickly breathed out, leaning over the table to point at Billy’s plate. 

Billy’s father flicked his newspaper down for a second to look at Jacob with an eyebrow raised, before returning back to the paper. “Don’t lean on the table unless you want to have _zero_ pancakes and _zero_ slices of bacon, young man.”

“That’s _so_ unfair!” Jacob muttered as his face bunched up, nonetheless settling back into his vinyl chair. He knew better than to disobey father.

“It’s simple dear,” Billy’s mother started, pouring orange juice into an empty cup on the table. “Billy is older and needs more food, once you two grow bigger you can expect larger portions.” She set the bottle of Tropicana on the table as she finally sat down across from her husband.

Billy continued his breakfast in silence, watching his family interact. His father wasn’t paying attention to anything his mother said, only responding with meaningless phrases or sounds like ‘hmm,’ ‘uh-huh,’ or ‘yes dear.’ Billy could tell that this hurt his mother, though she would never actively reveal this to her children. He knew because her smile didn’t reach her eyes, or the cheery tone of voice she employed seemed over the top and empty of emotion. It felt as if her actions never really reflected what she was actually thinking. Billy wondered if his brothers noticed these things about their mother. If they did, they didn’t allow it to show.

His brothers were murmuring back and forth as they ate. Isaac was bouncing up and down, humming along to the new song playing on the radio. Some song about parties and dolls, whatever that was supposed to mean. Jacob seemed to be eating as fast as he could, probably so he could get the best spot in front of the television set before Isaac even finished eating.

Right as Billy was finishing his second pancake, a shrill beep halted all conversation around the breakfast table. Billy glanced out the window behind him to see a big yellow stream-lined bus with ‘Lehnsherrberg Unified School District’ plastered across its side in oily black letters. His stomach did a somersault.

“Uh, I guess that’s the bus,” Billy said, fumbling with his chair as he got up. The relative ease of the morning melting away as he started to walk out of the kitchen.

“Have a good day sweetie!” His mother exclaimed, getting up from her chair to give Billy a gentle hug. She flashed him a small smile and kissed his forehead. Billy tried his best to return the smile, but his face probably contorted into a look of utter horror.

“Knock em’ dead, champ,” his father stated flatly, not looking up from his paper.

“I’ll pick you up at three, okay Billy?”

Billy nodded at his mother and quickly walked out of the kitchen, lest there be more goodbyes, and stood at the front door. The giant wooden slab had a beautiful oval of stained glass placed right at face level, most likely to allow for visitors’ identities to be known before swinging the heavy door open. The window depicted downtown Lehnsherrberg at the time the house was built, with the three identifiable steeples contrasting against rolling green hills. He could just barely see the bus whirring beyond the porch. Billy collected himself, hoping the color had returned to his face, and opened the door.

He crossed the wide porch and descended the concrete stairs to the front walk. The lawn seemed to increase in length with every step Billy took. His nerves were getting the best of him.

The wide street was lined with mature Beech trees, casting green shadows over the bus. He could see the bus hum with anticipation just beyond the fins and chrome of the parked cars bordering the sidewalk. As he drew closer he could see the faces of his new classmates staring out at him, following his every movement. They had never stopped at his house before—they were expecting a new kid. 

The door folded neatly to one side, allowing Billy to quickly scramble onto the bus.

The bus started moving again just as the door slid to a close behind him. Billy was about to head up the set of steps from the landing to the main body of the bus when he heard a small voice, barely discernible over the loud diesel engine.

“Wait!” His mother yelled, quickly trotting down the broad porch steps of their home. She was holding something brown in her tightly clasped hands.

It was Billy’s satchel, the one his only friend in the whole world had given him. It was too late to retrieve it—the bus was already rounding the corner to Maple Drive. He had forgotten his school supplies on the first day. 

_Absolutely fantastic._

 

-o- 

 

Billy nodded to the bus driver as he continued up the narrow stairs at the front of the vehicle. He turned to look down the length of the bus. It was only half full, but all eyes were locked intently on him. He could feel his cheeks start to redden; Billy was the new kid after all, they were already sizing him up. He knew what they saw; a scrawny kid of average height, a ‘possibly Jewish’ _nerd_ with floppy black hair. In short: an easy target.

Billy started to make his way down the aisle, looking for an empty row to sink down and occupy while he decided to die from embarrassment. By now some of the kids were giggling and murmuring amongst themselves.

“Is that the new kid?” Billy heard a girl’s voice ask someone else.

“He’s so frail looking! Not to mention pale.” A boy’s voice this time. 

“He’s definitely going to be a deadweight in P.E.” Another boy’s voice, in response to the first.

Billy was around the middle of the bus when he came upon a handsome dark-haired boy with a strong jawline and broad shoulders. The seat next to him was empty, but Billy knew that he would definitely not be sitting there. After all, jocks and nerds didn’t mix.

The dark-haired boy sneered at him, almost with the amount of venom and hate as the man in Billy’s nightmare. Billy decided to glare back.

“Aw, did you forget something at home so your wittle mommy had to come running to give it to you?” The boy spat out in a mockery of a child’s voice. “Don’t even think about sitting there, fairy boy, this seat is reserved for _my_ best friend.”

Billy blanched at the word ‘fairy,’ was it really that obvious? 

“I have no plan to sit next to the likes of _you_ , chowderhead,” Billy retorted and kept walking down the aisle. He knew he shouldn’t have said that, any response that wasn’t meek surrender only riled up no-brain bullies. 

The boy’s hands tightened into fists and his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth as if to say something in return, but Billy had already walked out of earshot.  

Billy sat two rows behind the dark-haired bully, but made a point to not stare at the back of his perfectly styled head. _To think someone so attractive could be so gross._ Instead he watched the tree-lined streets pass outside the window. The houses were much like Billy’s own, spacious and Richardsonian Romanesque in style. Each was different, an array of unique brickwork and a dizzying variety of towers and chimneys. In truth, Billy really loved his new neighborhood.

The bus stopped a multitude of times to allow more students to board. By now it was around seventy-five percent full, all the rows around Billy now stuffed with babbling students. However the seat next to him remained empty, as did the seat next to the dark-haired boy.

They were nearing the eastern bank of the Maxinoff River when the bus stopped at a house Billy had never seen before. Admittedly, most of the houses the bus stopped at were new to Billy, but this one seemed to belong in a different world. 

Instead of brick, the house was made out of some sort of grey stone. It’s facade was arranged symmetrically around an impressive portico of four granite columns. Much of the stone was covered by a delicate layer of ivy, elegant sash windows piercing through the greenery at even intervals. It was easily the largest, if not _grandest_ , house in all of Lehnsherrberg.

What was even more impressive than the house was the girl who strolled out of those immense front doors. She sauntered down the marble staircase leading from the portico, taking multiple steps at a time. On the top of her head of medium length blue-black hair sat a purple beret, slightly tilted to one side. Upon her delicate nose rested a pair of silver-rimmed glasses with small circular lenses, which she readjusted every few steps. She wore a large men’s jacket with a rucksack swung over one shoulder. Jeans for bottoms and white tennis shoes on her feet— _sportswear outside of gym?_

It wasn’t just her unusual style which Billy admired, but also the way she carried herself. You could tell that she oozed confidence, you’d have to have high self esteem to so unashamedly shout ‘I’m different! I’m unique!’ with your clothing. 

Billy wasn’t the only one looking, it seemed like half the bus was gazing distractedly out the windows as she approached from across the gravel oval and around the fountain in front of the ivy-covered mansion. 

She stepped onto the bus and stood, one hand on her waist, at the front of the aisle. Everyone was staring at her in complete silence. 

“Huh, you guys got a problem or something?” She declared, a wicked grin appearing on her face.

Everyone looked away and the murmur of conversation rose once more. Billy failed to notice that the other students had turned away from the girl, instead he found himself staring at her face as she stared right back. Her eyebrows arched and her grin grew wider as she marched down the aisle with renewed purpose. 

She swung her rucksack down from over her shoulder and deposited it on the floor next to Billy’s feet. Billy scooted closer to the wall as the girl plopped down next to him. 

He looked out the window as she settled in. They were passing over the Maxinoff River on a great arched bridge of steel painted a calming shade of baby blue. The water rushed and boiled underneath, the trees on either bank drooping their heavy branches over the torrent. The reflections of their multi-colored canopies on the water made it seem like Billy was submerged at the bottom of the river, looking up at the surface world through some distorted pane of crystalline glass.

Billy yelped at a sharp poke of his ribs. He turned and glared at the girl in the purple beret.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that! I had to get your attention somehow,” she said, smiling playfully. “You’re new in town aren’t you?”

“Yeah, what tipped you off?” Billy snapped back.

“Oh, just the fact you met my gaze and held it,” she answered casually, not a fraction of sarcasm in her voice. “You don’t know who I am. It’s just so refreshing to meet someone who isn't intimidated by my presence.”

There was a pregnant pause as Billy attempted to come up with a response. He was starting to regret paying attention to her, she sounded like a psychopath.

“Should I be?” Billy asked after a moment. “Intimidated by you, that is,” he added at the look of confusion on her face.

“Well, when your father employs two-thirds of Lehnsherrberg, you really don’t make many friends,” she answered finally, a dash of cold in her voice. “They don’t realize I hate him too,” she mumbled softly.

Billy looked at her sharply, deciding to rebuke the earlier callous judgement that had passed through his mind. He felt a pang of recognition in the sound of her voice. He was able to identify something in that tone of hers, something Billy knew intimately. It had to be the pain of being an outsider, the frustration of never being a part of the crowd—the helpless desire to be accepted.

_Time to go out on a limb._

“You know, you're the first person to actually _talk_ to me in this town. I know we’ve exchanged what—a handful of words?” Billy turned in his seat to look at the girl in the purple beret, “But your sincerity is really refreshing; I can tell it’s you talking to me, not some ‘public face.’” He quickly glanced out the window as the bus started to pass through the poorer areas of town. “I dunno, I just feel like I know what you're going through. I know what it’s like to not have any friends.”

“Well then! Glad my self-deprecating honesty can be of some use,” the girl laughed, glasses almost toppling from her nose. “I’m Kate Bishop by the way.” She put out her hand, waiting for Billy to reciprocate.

“Billy Kaplan.” Billy grasped her hand, receiving a brisk and business-like handshake. “I don’t suppose you have any extra notebooks and pencils in that rucksack of yours?” Billy asked as a relieved grin spread over his face, he’d taken a chance and it had actually _worked_.  

Kate did, insisting that he keep a notebook of beige paper beautifully bound in light brown leather with a small aluminum clasp. It even had a pouch to hold pencils and erasers, which Kate also supplied.

“This is too much! Thanks though, I kinda forgot all my stuff at home,” Billy sputtered in surprise, leaning back in his seat to glance back out the window. The warmth of a genuine human connection started to weed its way deep into his heart. “My mom was running after the bus with my bag… it was pretty embarrassing.”

“Don’t mention it Billy, there are literal _tons_ of paper just lying around my house. My father owns a publishing company in Augusta as well as the steel mill here in town,” she laughed a bit roughly. 

Billy had his suspicions, but Kate’s admission had proved them. Her father was _the_ Bishop Billy had been hearing about since before the move. The very Bishop whose job offer enticed Billy’s father away from his previous position on Madison Avenue. He didn’t see why that knowledge should ruin a budding friendship though. If anything, the knowledge of her father’s position only served to strengthen the bond he felt growing between them. Whereas Billy was a _literal_ outsider, Kate was an outsider in the sense that she was untouchable.   

As the bus continued to travel through a less-well-off neighborhood, it occurred to Billy that even the so called ‘slums’ of Lehnsherrberg were composed of neat Craftsman-styled bungalows in decent condition. The trees were still vibrant and the grass still green, though a bit more wild. The tidy neighborhood served as a pleasant backdrop while Billy and Kate kept talking, learning more about each other. 

Kate told Billy that she enjoyed archery and fencing, the only two interests of her’s that Mr. Bishop deemed civilized enough for the likes of his daughter’s ‘status.’ Billy learned of more menial things like Kate’s obsession with boxing, or how her favorite color was (obviously) purple. 

She could tell that Billy was holding back; to avert her wrath he decided to divulge some of his more dorky interests. 

He told Kate about his love of drawing, especially drawing old architecture and landscapes. Billy continued by revealing that he found his love of drawing through comics, and that he was also a _bit_ of a comic book nerd. This earned him a _hilarious_ expression of fake shock on Kate’s face, her eyebrows raised high as her hands rested on either side of her gaping mouth. 

Billy was so engrossed in their conversation, he failed to notice how the bus was now completely full—except for one seat. Or how the bus was now in the shadow of the monolithic Lehnsherr Steel Mill. 

The mill was a massive structure of brick, glass, and metal. The single immense smokestack dwarfed everything in all of Lehnsherrberg, towering over the church steeples just across the river. The bus rolled to a stop across from the mill, the last house deep in its long shadow. 

The last house was a neat little victorian farmhouse, its clapboards painted a pleasant shade of mint green. It must have predated the factory, the fields it once commanded now rows upon rows of worker bungalows. The front door swung open, screen door clacking against the wall, and out came the most beautiful boy Billy had ever seen.

His blond hair looked as yellow as gold. It fell in effortless gentle arcs across his forehead and ears, like some mythological hero painted by an Old Master. His jaw was rounded but strong, the muscles of his neck and shoulders gracefully contoured and prominent. He was at least half a foot taller than Billy, proportional and muscular physique obscured by a soft layer of baby fat. Even so, the muscles of his body rippled beneath his tight clothing as he moved, fabric gently clinging to every soft curve and defined edge with erotic precision. He was wearing a white and green letter jacket with ’T.A.’ stitched on one side, which meant he was probably on one of Lehnsherrberg High’s many sports teams. Underneath the jacket, Billy could just barely make out a light grey shirt; the collar of which was low enough that he could only glance at the briefly exposed strip of tan skin along the top of the boy’s broad chest. 

The blond paused, as if sensing Billy’s gaze, before stuffing one hand down a front pocket while the other swung a book bag over his powerful shoulder.

Billy felt himself stare, his desire churning. Nobody else appeared to be looking, if anything the other students seemed to be trying their best to avoid looking at the beautiful boy. Billy positioned his head so it faced the front of the bus, but his eyes were still following the boy’s graceful movements as he stepped off his porch.

_Why is he so sad?_  

The boy was slouching as he walked across his yard, looking down at his feet, broad shoulders tense. He looked like a man ready to give up after years of fighting, his beautifully soft features scrunched up and furrowed. Only when he reached the sidewalk did he compose himself. His look of concern and worry suddenly replaced by a vacant grin, a grin you could tell was devoid of any true meaning. As his mask cemented, he stepped onto the idling bus.

The boy rounded the narrow steps at the front of the bus, his crystal blue eyes scanning the rows of students as he came to a stop. Out of all the seated teenagers, his gaze came to rest on Billy’s steady stare. His eyes went wide and crinkled as a genuine smile blossomed across his lips. _He had dimples!_ The boy’s cheeks pinked a little as their eyes stayed locked. Billy felt his own face redden, eagerly returning the smile. The blond let out a little chuckle, half raising his hand to give a small wave. 

Billy started to raise his own hand to wave back, but stopped as soon as he saw the dark-haired bully from earlier begin to wave in response to the boy. The lock between their eyes shattered as the blond noticed the dark-haired boy’s wave.

His smile was no longer real, it was the vacant one he had pasted over his face just before stepping onto the bus. He briefly glanced back at Billy, a deep sadness behind his blue eyes, before returning his gaze to the bully. The boy’s carefully constructed composure was cracking, every step closer to the dark-haired boy chipping off pieces of his false expression. He appeared to shrink, shoulders constricting and head held low—absolute exhaustion creeping through the widening cracks of his mask. Then, as the blond came to a stop next to the dark-haired bully, his expression and posture re-solidified, the imitation ease and smile oddly heartbreaking.

“Teddy! Saved a seat for you, I knew you’d want to sit next to your _best_ friend,” the bully laughed, patting the only empty seat on the bus. Billy could hear the prickle of cruelty in his voice. The students seated around the scene were pointedly looking at anything but the blond boy. Something was seriously wrong.

With a fake smile plastered across his lips, the boy—Teddy, sighed and sat down next to the dark-haired boy. 

Billy let out a groan as he sunk down into his seat, Kate looked at him with a cocked eyebrow and an amused curl to her lips. The bus began to move once more, crossing the Maxinoff River on a steel truss bridge painted a vivid blood red. This time the bus was heading downtown, to Lehnsherrberg High.

To all the new stress and all the new people.

_I haven’t even made it to school and already I’ve caught a devastating crush on a gorgeous jock, made a potential enemy,_ _and (even weirder) a friend!_

 

-o-

 

Kate seemed to understand that Billy wasn’t really in the mood to talk anymore. She was leafing through a book of poetry as she let Billy resume staring out the window at the passing scenery. Billy knew from the various brief glances she shot his way that she suspected something. He can’t really blame her for noticing how the color in his cheeks deepened every time he decided to look up at the blond beauty sitting only two rows ahead of them. 

_I hope to god that Kate is looking at me for some other reason._

With the mill falling behind them, the bus quickly found itself in the historic center of Lehnsherrberg. The houses grew older and closer together as they rounded the corner onto Center Street, the brand new high school perched at the end of the road like some sort of grounded ocean liner. It’s white stucco walls were divided into horizontal bands by ribbons of long windows with black aluminum frames. A frieze wrapped around the top of the school depicting education throughout history. It looked as though it started with scenes of ancient Sumerian priests learning how to write on clay tablets, and ended with depictions of 20th century students reading as a teacher pointed to a chalkboard with a ruler. Beside the recessed main entrance was a clock with a black face and white numerals. Beneath it in tall black letters read, ‘Truth is reached through persistence and hard work.’ A sobering thought, if not an outright lie. 

Billy noticed all this as the bus pulled alongside the obscenely large and unnaturally green lawn in front of Lehnsherrberg High. The lawn was covered with students who lived within walking distance of the school. They all seemed to have their own spot, sitting on the steps, lounging on the grass, or even just standing in clusters around the various paths which gridded the lawn. There was so much to look at and take in, the variety of colors and clothing mixing into a swirling abstract painting of pure form against a background of verdant green grass and gleaming white stucco.

The bus came to a hiccuping stop against the curb, its door folding aside. The students at the front of the bus immediately stood up and filed down the steps to join their classmates outside. As row after row emptied, Billy saw the dark-haired boy’s hand clench tight around the blond’s forearm, pushing him forward from behind. 

For a second Billy thought the boy would twist free from his apparent tormentor and escape, for during that brief moment anger had painted his beautiful face red and raw. Instead the blond’s face mellowed as he allowed himself to be manhandled down the aisle. _They are definitely not friends._ He quickly lost sight of the two boys in the erupting crowd of disembarking students.

“Okay, you seriously need to stop doing that,” Kate said as she hauled Billy into a standing position. She started to lead him down the aisle to the stairs at the front of the bus. 

The lawn was even more crowded than it looked from inside the bus, a wall of students making it impossible to move quickly. The impervious mass of teenagers was buzzing with conversation. Friends who hadn't seen each other over the summer were exchanging enthusiastic greetings, others exchanging stories and experiences they had while on vacation. None of them keen on letting Billy and Kate through.

“And what _is_ ‘that,’ exactly?” Billy asked as they came to a stop, unable to move through the crowd. He could feel his face reddening by the second.

_She must already know the truth._

Instead of responding, Kate just gave him an exasperated expression. With a smooth motion Kate grabbed one of Billy’s hands, her free hand forming a half-cone around her mouth.

“Make way for fresh meat!” She shouted over the rising tide of conversation. The students who bothered to look at the source of the shout only started moving when they realized it had originated from Kate. She surged forward with Billy in tow. “New student comin’ through!”

The crowd parted, allowing Kate to lead Billy up the front steps into the relatively empty halls of Lehnsherrberg High. Having a pariah as your tour guide definitely had its advantages, but also its tribulations. For instance, the way eyes seemed to follow him as he was being pulled through the crowd. Their eyes dissecting his clothes and body, attempting to peel back his armor to expose the vulnerabilities beneath. They wouldn’t have to dig too far to find what they were looking for, Billy was certain his new classmates had already categorized and assigned him an appropriate place in the complex social hierarchy of the school.

The other type of look Billy received as the crowd saw Kate’s hand laced through his own was a completely new experience. _Let them think what they want—it’s easier that way._

Kate led him through the tiled halls, past red lockers and beige walls. She stopped in front of a door with ‘Cleaning Supplies’ painted in gold letters across a small frosted glass window. Kate glanced side to side as she opened the door, beckoning Billy into the room. It had a small window on the wall opposite the door, empty wooden shelves lining the walls to either side. Kate took a breath and turned to face Billy. 

“This room has never been used, so there’s not a chance in hell that someone will overhear us,” she said, searching Billy’s face as she leaned against the door. “You can trust me Billy, I would _never_ talk about my friends behind their backs.”

“Wh—what are you talking about?” Billy stammered out. He felt his hands shaking and his gut sink. His cheeks had to be turning a deeper shade of red now, he could feel the heat of a blush slowly creep down his neck.

“I’m pretty sure we both know what I’m talking about.” Kate stated coolly. Her tone shifted, becoming gentle and warm, “I’m willing to help, Billy, but I only offer my help to people who are completely honest with me.”

“Why would I need your help with anything?” Billy snapped back quickly, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. His anxiety immediately turned into anger, he was done with the games Kate was playing. She should be honest herself and just tell him how disgusting he makes her feel. He didn’t take her for the type to try to convert him over to the ‘right’ side or something. He didn't want any ‘help’ suppressing who he was just to make other people happy, Billy already had a lifetime of experience doing _just_ that, thank you. 

At the same time, Billy didn’t want to loose his new friend.

Kate sighed, “That’s not what I meant Billy.” She pulled Billy’s hand out of his pocket and held it. “You need help hiding something you shouldn’t have to hide,” she said with a soft, knowing voice. “Other people don't understand, but I do. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Behind her circular glasses, Kate’s eyes were serious and warm. Billy didn’t really know what to say. He had to decide between admitting to Kate what she obviously already knew to be true, or attempt a half-baked denial. _How can she read me so easily?_

He looked from her kind face to their interlocked hands. Billy had never heard someone refer to homosexuality in such a neutral or even slightly positive tone. It had always been something nobody talked about, and if anyone did bring it up their comments were always strictly hateful. They said that homosexuals were abominations, people who were against nature and god; people who were better off dead. 

_“You need help hiding something you shouldn’t have to hide.”_  

_“You don’t have to hide it from me.”_

_Trust her._

Billy looked down at his shoes, he didn’t think he could meet Kate’s eyes when he was going to finally say it.

“Yeah—you’re right about me Kate,” Billy mumbled to his shoes. Tears started to form in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision. “I don’t want to hide who I am from you, even if we only just met like forty-five minutes ago.” Kate’s reassuring hand squeezed gently around his fingers. 

“I’m gay,” Billy whispered into the silence.

Kate dropped his hand so she could wrap her arms around him, bringing Billy into a tight hug. Billy stopped holding back his tears, letting them flow down his face and onto the tile floor. He wasn’t crying because he hated who he was, but rather he had simply never said those words aloud to anyone but himself. Those words had always been his own personal secret, something to lock up inside and never reveal to anyone as long as the world remained cruel. It felt liberating to know someone accepted him for who he was.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told,” Billy said as Kate pulled out of the hug. He wiped his eyes with his hands. “This isn’t how I expected my first day of school to start.”

Kate chuckled, causing Billy to flash a teary grin. 

“I wasn’t lying, Billy you _can_ trust me,” she said firmly, her face a stoic mask. “I can help you like I promised, I have a plan that can benefit us both.”

“Benefit us bo—?” Billy began, only to be interrupted by the harsh sound of the school bell.

“Never mind that now, we have to get to our homerooms before the second bell,” Kate breathed out quickly. “Do you have your schedule?”

“No, I forgot everything at home remember?” Billy frowned, he completely forgot about that ordeal. So much had happened between stepping onto the bus and standing there in an unused supply closet. “Where can I get a copy?”

Kate huffed, “Follow me to the office, we only have ten minutes before our butts are toast!”

She grabbed his hand like before, forcing Billy to run behind her as the halls slowly filled with students. 

Billy felt nervous, but also extremely giddy. It felt so wonderful to have a friend who knew his secret, one who still liked him for his true self. In fact, it was just nice to have a friend, _period._ Billy had never revealed his homosexuality to another soul, the mere fact that Kate Bishop now knew his deepest secret tied her to him forever. It had only taken around an hour for Kate to become his closest friend. 

Richie had never known the truth. _Were we ever even that close?_ Nothing could compare to the intimacy of a shared secret. Billy was fairly confident that he would've told Richie had his friend ever brought it up, that’s all it had taken with Kate. He couldn't really blame Richie for respecting Billy’s boundaries—he could only blame himself for never trusting Richie with the truth.

Billy just hoped that Kate’s plan would help him avoid the wrath of bullies. He had no ability to understand what went on under that purple beret of her’s, but he had trusted her this far. _So what’s really the worse that could happen?_ Maybe he could find a way to help that blond jock (Teddy?) too. Then everything would be perfect.

 

-o-

 

The intercom crackled violently as someone tapped their finger on the microphone. “Hello? _Hello?_ Hel—oh, yes! The system is working, you may begin your announcement, principal!” A sunny voice echoed across Lehnsherrberg High’s identical classrooms.

A shuffle, chair legs scraping against linoleum, and a gruff voice began, “I’m your principal, Mr. Andelbrott, and welcome back to another year at Lehnsherrberg High School. We on the faculty hope you all had an eventful and academically-stimulating summer vacation. First, I’d like to congratulate our very own Lehnsherrberg Quakers for making it to the State Championships over the summer!” Cheers erupted from the front of class where some jocks were seated, their celebration short-lived as the principal continued, “We were so very close to winning too! I have confidence that our fine fellas will knock em’ dead this year. After all, a successful education begins with persistence _and_ a goal.” Mr. Andelbrott coughed and took a slow, wet breath before he continued, “Secondly, you all know what the beginning of a fresh year means: the Harvest Festival is upon us! This year we mark the 250th anniversary of the founding of our town with pomp and circumstance that would make our forefathers proud! The search has already begun for students willing to take initiative and lead the Festival Commission. Students who volunteer will be expected to plan both the dance and festival games, as well as coordinate the event. Being a member of the commission is a huge responsibility, so don’t expect some easy task designed to liven up your college applications. This anniversary is serious business, the whole town is looking to our youth to keep this tradition alive.” Chaotic murmuring ensued as the principal took another breath.

“Now, please rise for the Pledge of Allegiance…”

Billy stood up with the rest of the class and belted out an acceptable pledge, sitting down as the intercom crackled.

“Have a good day, and a good year. Remember, ‘Truth is reached through persistence and hard work!’” A brief fumbling of fingers reverberated through the school as the microphone was disconnected.

 

-o-

 

Late morning light shone through the long windows of Mrs. Smith’s classroom, illuminating the wall-mounted clock above the chalkboard. _Only a few more minutes till passing period._ Mrs. Smith was seated behind her desk, her monotonous drone introducing the first homework assignment of the school year. Billy usually enjoyed English, but Mrs. Smith had to be joking. _An essay describing our summer experiences—what are we, sophomores?_ At least it would be quick and easy, unlike the tedious monotony of class.

Instead of listening to Mrs. Smith’s croaking voice, Billy found himself doodling in the notebook Kate had given him. He could always clear his head by focusing pencil on paper, a new world forming as he moved his pencil across the page. Billy only ever drew cities and landscapes, whole countries where he could escape and be alone. He could imagine himself strolling down the lovingly rendered streets of his drawings, pondering the world he created as he slowly passed it by. He used drawing as a way to reflect on the unfolding events of his life, a way to make sense of the real world. Billy supposed that’s what he was doing right at that moment in Mrs. Smith’s English class; drawing to distance himself from reality so he could consider what he was getting himself into.

Billy had been surprised at how quickly the office secretary, Mrs. Lamcomb, was able to tell him which class he had for homeroom. She then went on to inform Billy that schedules would be handed out to students once attendance had been filed after the morning announcements. She had attempted to continue, but Kate had grabbed his hand (for the _third_ time) and yanked him into the hallway. Kate had Billy’s homeroom last year, so she was willing to deposit him there on the way to her own class. 

It had been the quick whisper in his ear that caused Billy’s previously giddy mood to sour.

“Meet me in the grove of trees behind the bleachers at lunch, I’ll explain my plan then.” He could still feel Kate’s warm breath on the back of his neck.

That’s all it took for Billy’s mind to start jumping to conclusions.

He had half-expected his classmates to burst into laughter and point at him, shouting ‘fairy! fairy! fairy!’ when he opened the door to homeroom, his whole confession some sort of evil joke. No such thing happened, Kate hadn’t used him as a punchline, instead the chilly indifference he received was almost worse. He had felt invisible when he had taken his seat at the back of the classroom, no one giving him more than a momentary glance. Billy preferred the giggles and snide comments.

The first-day greetings and introductions quickly grew tiresome and boring. All Billy could think about was lunch, Kate’s meeting getting closer and closer by the minute. He merely went through the motion of school, receiving his schedule, locker number, and English books without any serious thought. Billy’s mind was elsewhere; trying to decide whether to meet Kate at her specified location, or hide in the cafeteria until sunset. 

_What is she planning? Do I really want to be a part of it?_

No matter her plan, there was a strong chance that it would end in disaster. Something would go wrong, some overlooked detail would surface and ruin everything. As always, Billy was sure that he’d be the one left to pick up the pieces.

But… there was also a chance that Kate’s plan could actually work. She seemed confident that Billy would benefit, but he wouldn’t know _how_ until lunch.

_Only one more class period until I know my fate._

The bell rung suddenly, bringing Billy’s mind back to his cramped desk in Mrs. Smith’s bright classroom. He collected his pencils and took his time tidying up his space, this was a habit he had formed over many years to avoid the awkwardness of possible social interaction with his classmates. Once the room was mostly empty, Billy eased out of his tiny chair and darted out the door into the bustling hall.

The unrelenting torrent of students caught Billy as he left the safety of the classroom. He found himself heading in some unknown direction away from the safe territory of the front half of school. As the walls began to change from beige to darker beige, Billy knew he had to stop and find his bearings. He caught his breath against a pillar as traffic continued to flow, his brief submersion in the crowd had knocked the wind right out of his lungs. The pause was a good time to review his schedule, it was probably a good idea to find out which class he had next.

Billy only had one more class before lunch—U.S. History. The room number listed on his schedule gave no hint as to where the class was actually located, he had no clue where to even start. He suddenly remembered how helpful Mrs. Lamcomb had been in the office. Asking her for directions would be much easier than asking one of the passing students. 

_There’s no chance she’d let out a laugh and keep walking._

The mounting weight of his English books told Billy it was time to get moving and find his locker. If he was lucky, it would be on the way to the office. The school wasn’t _that_ big, his search shouldn't take more than a few minutes once he found his bearings. Even if Billy was late to class, it was his first day at a new school. That fact should make a decent excuse.

The crowd of students started to dwindle as Billy fished out the slip of paper with his locker number typed neatly in the center. The small piece of paper only held three evenly-spaced digits: _3 2 7._ Or at least he thought it read ‘327,’ a suspicious smudge under the seven meant it could possibly be a mutilated two. 

With the slip firmly held in hand, Billy eased into the lessening stream of passing teenagers. 

The passing period must have been nearing its conclusion, the hall was emptying by the second. Only the frantic steps of late students echoed through the suddenly quiet air. Billy’s eyes darted from the paper in his hand to the stamped metal number plates marking the door of each encroaching locker. He was heading in the right direction, the numbers were steadily marching down to 327 from his starting point at 616. Billy picked up his pace, eyes scanning each passing locker to ensure he was still on the right track.

Billy only realized that he had been running down the hall when an out-stretched foot connected with his shins. His arms immediately let go of his carefully bundled school supplies, coming up to protect his face from the rapidly approaching floor. Billy winced as he made impact with the linoleum, the momentum from the fall causing his skin to scrape against the joints of each tile. He could feel bruises and cuts bloom across his body as he slid to a stop. Billy noticed that his left arm ached as he propped himself up, twisting his torso in order to protect his groin. He stayed in that position, letting his head hang as he glared at the two pairs of approaching shoes.

“Watch where you’re going, _queer!_ Don’t wanna make falls like that regular, hmm?” The voice wasn’t one Billy recognized, but it was nonetheless filled with the cruelty he expected.

“Nice one, _chowderhead_ ,” this time, Billy _did_ know the voice. “Too bad your fairy wings couldn’t cushion the fall.”  

Billy clenched his jaw and held his tongue, willing his eyes to stay locked on their feet. He didn’t want to encourage them, their shoes were mere inches away from his stomach. In this position, they could easily put him in the hospital.

“Hey! Look at Greg when he talks to you!” The first voice snapped, an attached foot giving Billy’s exposed hip a sharp kick.

Billy couldn’t help himself, he glared up at those smug faces. For the brief moment he could see, Billy recognized the dark-haired boy towering over him. Behind him stood a larger boy with short auburn hair, both faces sporting a satisfied grin. He noticed that both were wearing green and white letter jackets, the same kind as Billy’s crush. He was glad that the blond wasn’t there with the bullies, towering over Billy’s helpless form.

That’s when the dark-haired boy, Greg he guessed, spat in Billy’s face.

Their laughter filled his ears as the spit ran down Billy’s forehead into his eyes and nose. He quickly starting wiping his face with his sleeve, trying to remove the foreign fluid before it could sink in. Billy could feel that he was about to snap, that he would say something stupid causing himself more torment. His mouth was already starting to form words his brain had no control over, but Greg interrupted him before he could speak.

“Don’t you dare talk to me with your _disgusting_ mouth,” he said sharply, settling into a crouch so his face was almost level with Billy’s. “Since you're new, I’ll let you off with this warning. Trust me, this is a warning compared to what John and I could do,” he paused, smiling as he thought of past cruelties. “I. Own. This. School. Don’t get in my way and we won’t have any problems.” He straightened up, joining his lackey. “Have a good first day!” Greg mocked with false cheer, causing the glorified baboon at his side to chuckle. 

Their shoes squeaked shrilly on the linoleum, echoing as they strolled down the hall. Billy shut his eyes and focused on regulating his breathing, his heart was beating frantically in his chest. He had to calm down, he still had to find his locker and classroom before— 

The bell interrupted Billy’s thoughts with a succession of short frantic rings. He was officially late on his first day, exactly what he was trying to avoid. Billy groaned and started to haul himself up, only to pause when he heard the distinctive sound of shoes hitting the floor. The cadence of steps increased in speed and volume, it became obvious that whoever was behind the noise was heading straight towards Billy. He tensed, Greg and his pet must have decided that their ‘warning’ wasn’t good enough. 

Those thoughts ceased when a pair of shoes came to a stop just a few feet away from where Billy was sprawled. 

_Those aren’t Greg’s shoes._

“Are you alright?” A deep melodic voice asked breathily.

Billy looked up, meeting the beautiful blond’s gaze. His face was a bit flushed from running down the hall, golden hair lightly wind tossed. His blue eyes were filled with concern, they scanned Billy’s face with furrowed brows. They flicked from feature to feature, as if looking for cuts and abrasions. _Maybe they are._ Billy had only ever seen his mother look at him that way, eyes brimming with worry and care.

“I—err,“ Billy stammered out, he could hear the echo of hopelessness in his own voice. The boy noticed too, he stepped forward and crouched in front of Billy.

“Here, lemme help you up,” he said, offering his hand to Billy. It was broad and strong, his fingers were gently calloused and knuckles lightly scuffed. Short blond hairs sprinkled the back of his hand, connecting to the delicate pattern of hair marching up his toned forearm. He moved a bit closer, light turning stray hairs into liquid gold.

Billy reached for his hand, warm fingers curling around his own. His hand fit snuggly within the other boy’s, as if they were meant to lock perfectly together. The boy’s skin was firm and soft, a gentle tingle began to spread throughout Billy’s body from their point of contact. His heart beat even faster than before, he could feel his blush as it blossomed across his cheeks.

“Th—thank you,” he mumbled as the boy pulled him into a standing position with ease. The blond was also blushing, a dimpled smile replacing his worried expression. Billy found himself smiling too as he stared deep into the endless blue of the boy’s eyes. His eyes were still filled with concern, but also something like relief.

“I’m, uh, glad you're okay,” the boy said sheepishly, looking away from Billy’s eyes. “I was worried when I saw you lying on the floor like that, I was sure that I’d find you covered in blood or something.”

“Maybe next time, they said this was just a warning,” Billy said sourly. He felt the boy’s hand clench, making him realize that they were still holding hands. They both looked down at their perfectly entangled fingers and quickly separated. Embarrassment penetrated Billy’s body—he couldn’t meet the blond’s eyes, deciding to bend down and retrieve his dropped school supplies instead.

He heard the boy sigh as he bent down to retrieve Billy’s pencils from the floor. “It’s not your fault you know, _they_ do that to every new kid,” he said quietly. The way he pronounced ‘they’ told Billy that he knew exactly who was responsible for Billy’s fall. “But this early in the year? You musth’ve done something to really tick them off.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t my fault,” Billy said as he stood up, hugging the books he had retrieved. 

“It would have happened eventually,” the blond stated glumly. He stood up with Billy’s pencils in his hand, his powerful shoulders stiffening. “It’s just, I kno—“ The boy’s jaw clenched as he caught himself. “—knew John and Greg, you have to be a really strong person to make them retaliate so quickly.” Billy felt his blush rise again, he didn’t know how to respond to that. He certainly wasn’t any type of strong in the traditional sense. 

“Here, let me carry your books to class,” the blond broke the lengthening silence, his hands held out in front of him.

“That would be really kind of you,” Billy said after a pause, placing his books in the boy’s outstretched arms. The brief caress of his skin caused a new wave of tingling warmth to spread through Billy’s body. He must be beet-red now, it was a wonder that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. “I actually don’t know how to get to my next class, do you know where to find room G260?”

The blond suddenly grinned, his face lighting up, “U.S. History right?” Billy nodded. “I just came from there, which reminds me,” he glanced at Billy as he started walking down the hall, “I need to stop by my locker, I left class because I forgot my notebook.”

“That sounds great!” Billy burst out, excitement barely contained. He’d be able to see this beautiful boy every day during third period. “I actually need to stop by my locker too, that’s what I was doing when I was, uh, ‘warned.’” Billy could sense the boy next to him recoil, maybe it was best not to talk about those jerks in his presence. There was definitely some sort of complicated history between them.

“Alright, mine first and then yours,” the boy said after a moment. They walked in a comfortable silence down the hall, the boy’s presence a welcome warmth at Billy’s side. He could just barely discern his scent, an enticing mixture of baked bread and burning wood. Everything just felt _right_ for once; for the first time since Kate’s whisper, Billy felt truly at ease. 

“Oh!” The blond stopped abruptly, turning to Billy. “I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Teddy,” he said, a bit too fast, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“I’m Billy,” he snickered, looking up at Teddy. “I’d shake your hand, but y’know—books,” Billy said, gesticulating to Teddy’s full arms.

Teddy tipped his head back and laughed, a beautiful sound which sent a flurry of butterflies racing around Billy’s stomach.

“Speaking of books, here’s my locker.” Teddy smiled, nodding over Billy’s shoulder at a red locker with the number 328 stamped on an aluminum plate in the center of the flimsy metal door.

Billy looked at the locker next to Teddy’s, and sure enough, it was locker 327. “You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Billy said, glancing at Teddy’s confused expression. “I’m locker 327, I guess we’re neighbors.”

Teddy let out another deep, mesmerizing laugh. “That’s quite a coincidence, right?” He teased, passing the books to Billy as he entered his combination and opened the locker door. Billy could see Teddy sneak a glance at him, looking him up and down in an instant. “Since I’m pretty sure you don’t have a lock yet, you can keep your stuff in my locker till you do.” He grabbed a notebook and pencil out of his locker as he stepped aside, letting Billy place his English books on the middle shelf. 

“You really are too nice,” Billy huffed, shutting Teddy’s locker as he turned to face his crush. “I could be some kind of psycho,” he continued, dwelling on his first impression of Kate from the bus earlier that morning.

“Worth the risk, I think,” Teddy replied, looking down into Billy’s face as he took a tentative step closer. His smile was full of sunshine, the small crinkles around his eyes made his cute face remarkably cuter. _God, I’m really in too deep already, aren’t I?_ Billy couldn’t help but smile in return, staring into Teddy’s eyes for what seemed like eternity.

Eternity, he realized, was something he didn’t have, “Um, shouldn’t we be heading back to class?” Billy forced himself to break eye contact with Teddy. “I don’t want to be even later than I already am,” he muttered; looking at Teddy’s tightly laced shoes, barely five inches from his own.

“Don’t worry about it, just follow me,” Teddy said as he started to move away from his locker. Billy swore he detected a hint of disappointment in the other boy’s voice, but that couldn’t be right. _Right?_

Billy fell neatly in step beside Teddy, something had obviously changed about his demeanor. The blond was distant, like he was deep in thought; it felt rude to interrupt him. Teddy was hard to comprehend, the jock profile Billy had built up based on his insane good looks didn't fit now that he’d actually talked to the guy. He wasn’t a nerd either, or at least not like Billy, he was just— _nice._

 Maybe Teddy was simply a genuine decent human being; a concept Billy had long ago filed under ‘societal delusion.’ There was definitely something between them though, a sort kinship that was as incomprehensible as Teddy himself. It was similar to how Billy had felt around Kate, but different—more intense and guttural, like the feeling came from somewhere deeper.

_Maybe Teddy is an outsider like me—like Kate?_

Their crisp steps on the linoleum floor had long ago synchronized, one reverberation echoing down the empty hall instead of two. As they walked in a broadening silence, their steps mimicking his heartbeat, Billy could feel Teddy slowly relax. He was present again, whatever had troubled the blond’s mind had apparently resolved itself—or had at least been digested. 

That warmth Billy had felt earlier was back, the feeling grew more and more until Teddy suddenly nudged Billy’s shoulder with his own. The brief contact sent waves of electric blue pleasure crashing throughout Billy’s body. The blue heat built, enveloping his limbs; he could feel it want to escape and burst forth—instead he gasped and stumbled mid-step. 

Whatever _that_ was, Billy knew he had to feel it again. He wanted to be wrapped up in Teddy’s warmth, he wanted to feel Teddy’s golden sunshine wash over him forever.

_Wow, I seriously need to get a grip. All he did was brush my shoulder._

That’s when Billy realized he’d never been so quiet around another person before.

 

-o-

 

“Since there’s no point in trying to force more knowledge down your throats on the first day,” Mr. Baron began, strolling from his desk to the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. He started scratching large letters on the dusty blackboard as he continued, “I’ve decided to end class by getting this Festival Commission business out of the way.”

Billy’s focus was quickly waning, but he was determined to look attentive due to his extreme tardiness. His classmates, however, all appeared to be waiting for the lunch bell to declare their temporary freedom. They were drooped over their desks like mounds of melted cheese, conforming to the subtle curves of aluminum and laminate wood which held their bodies. Teddy seemed to be the only other student attempting to feign attention, his head held high and spine flagpole-straight in the seat next to Billy.

“Since I’m the junior most history teacher at this school, the administration has decided that I should be tasked with forming and guiding the student commission in charge of organizing the festival.” He scowled and turned to look out at his students. “I fail to see how history has _anything_ to do with the Harvest Festival of today, I highly doubt we’ll be celebrating the harvest by burning witches like the founders of Lehnsherrberg did 250 years ago. Despite that, it’s my job to guide the future commission in creating a ‘historically-themed’ dance and various festival games to ensure the tradition doesn’t die with your parents’ generation.”

The class seemed to perk up; possibly due to the brief mention of witch burning, or maybe because Mr. Baron’s obvious distain for his position was shining through his professional facade.Billy decided that a combination of the two was responsible for the reawakening around the classroom. He couldn’t help himself either, he found that he didn't have to feign focus. Witches were way more interesting than the obligatory life story freshly hired teachers gave their first class.

Mr. Baron was quickly usurped by a gentle tap on Billy’s thigh, and the following flutter as a folded piece of paper appeared on his desk. 

Billy briefly glanced to his left, immediately noticing how Teddy was staring sheepishly at the ceiling. Billy quickly took the note from its resting place at the edge of his desk. They were seated far enough from the front of the room that they couldn’t possibly get caught by Mr. Baron, not that Billy thought he’d care that much.

Billy opened the note in his lap, looking around to make sure nobody was paying attention to him. Mr. Baron wasn’t the only one who could catch them.

**_Want to join the commission with me?_ **

He looked back at Teddy, eyebrows raised in surprise. Billy took his pencil and wrote his response.

**_You care about that junk?_ **

Teddy chuckled as he read what Billy wrote, a low rumble which stirred the dormant butterflies in Billy’s stomach.

**_Nope, but the commission gets special privileges. I was on it last year, not as hard as they make it sound._ **

**_I’ll think about it, what sort of ‘special privileges’ are we talking about here?_ **

Billy studied Teddy as he was concentrating on the note. The tip of his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he wrote. His face was silhouetted against the window, sunlight revealing pale stubble along Teddy’s prominent jaw. The heightened shadows emphasized his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down with every small swallow. He was devastatingly gorgeous. He was also having trouble with his response, he wrote and erased words multiple times before he placed the note back onto Billy’s desk.

**_We get to use the commission as an excuse to leave class early, even if we aren’t strictly on commission business. Last year I got out of Gym multiple times when I needed to be alone, the coach didn't expect a thing. All we have to do is hang around for an hour after school on Fridays, it’s a piece of cake._ **

Billy felt Teddy’s eyes on him as he read, he must be eager for Billy’s response. 

Billy read the note again to make sure he got everything right. It felt like Teddy was trying to imply something, which would explain why he took so long writing three sentences. He _had_ to be implying that he wanted to skip class with Billy, why else would Teddy include guarantees that he had never been caught? The thought of skipping class to be alone with Teddy filled Billy’s body with exhilaration, they’d have almost unlimited time to talk and be _friends._ Just friends, because Teddy was definitely straight. _Definitely._

Though maybe hanging out with him wasn’t a good idea; constant proximity would make Billy’s little crush much, _much_ harder to ignore. Perhaps it was already a not-so-little crush, seeing how Billy found himself staring at Teddy whenever the blond was looking the other way—his crush was certainly past the point of no return. Might as well give in and try to bury his feelings, at least he could still be friends with the guy. Not to mention that having a ‘social’ extracurricular activity would appease Billy’s mother. 

**_You had me at ‘I got out of Gym’ and ‘piece of cake.’ I’m in._ **

Teddy flashed a wide dimpled smile as he read Billy’s response, it was amazing being able to make someone else smile like that. Billy felt himself start to melt from that pure expression, only to be interrupted by a loud shuffle from the front of the room.

_Noises really seem to enjoy getting in the way today, almost like they’re one of those annoying plot devices in a bad movie._  

“So, who wants to volunteer to be a member of the Festival Commission?” Mr. Baron asked as he pushed a portion of the blackboard to the side, revealing a previously hidden layer of blackboard underneath. The attention-grabbing shuffle must have come from an earlier movement of the blackboard, the school should really grease the wheels of whatever mechanism allowed the layers to slide past each other. Mr. Baron pointed to a list scribbled on the uncovered layer, “I’ll write down every name, we’ll consolidate the list when some of you refuse to show up on Friday. Don’t be shy, raise your hands!”

Teddy’s hand shot up next to Billy’s, a few other students also rose their hands as Mr. Baron began to take stock. It was a surprising relief that Mr. Baron didn’t know any of the other students’ names, it made Billy forget that he was the new kid. There was an especially excited younger looking girl with dirty blonde hair sitting up front named Cassie, her voice came out as a funny squeak when Mr. Baron asked for her name. She was much more enthusiastic about the whole ordeal than the teacher.

“Alright, alright, is that everyone?” Mr. Baron asked as he dotted the _i_ in Cassie’s name. There was no answer, instead the bell pierced through the awkward silence. Mr. Baron let out a sigh, “I guess that’s the best answer I can get… Anyway, have a good lunch break everyone!”

A few students immediately bolted out the open door, leaving the rest of the class to scramble in their wake. Billy’s nerves were starting to fray, he’d been so preoccupied with Greg and Teddy that he completely forgot about the meeting. Now it was finally lunch, time to find Kate and hear her out. Billy was slowly making his way to the front of the room when a broad hand grasped his shoulder. He turned to meet Teddy’s nervous gaze.

“Hey, uh, what are you doing for lunch? Do you have anyone to sit with?” Teddy asked, repositioning his bag as he gently rolled back onto his heels.

“I’m sorry Teddy, I have to meet a friend outside. Normally I’d love to…“ Billy trailed off when he noticed Teddy’s expression turn muddy for a microsecond. The next instant his face was a not-so-real placid smile. Billy recognized what was going on, Teddy was trying to hide his disappointment; disappointment that he wouldn't be able to spend lunch with _him_. “You know what? I don’t know how long I’ll be with my friend, maybe we could meet up later before lunch is over?”

Teddy’s eyes brightened, sparkling more than they had any right to.

“That sounds great! Just meet me on the bleachers by the track. No biggie if you don’t show—I’ll know you got held up or something,” Teddy said with a genuine smile on his lips. He walked past Billy with a little bounce to his step, turning to give a small wave, “See you, Billy.”

“See you later!” Billy called, waving as Teddy entered the hall. He tried his best not to look at Teddy’s perfectly formed rear, aware that his classmates could be watching, but failed miserably.

_Why does it feel like I’m suddenly being torn in two directions?_

 

-o-

 

Birdsong drifted lazily through the crisp autumn air as Billy let the metal doors of Lehnsherrberg High swing shut behind him. He filled his lungs with fresh air; Billy normally didn’t care for the outdoors, but the clean air and open skies were a welcome break after hours of being cooped up in class. Other students had similar ideas, small clusters of teenagers were starting to settle onto the technicolor grass as Billy descended the wide steps from the rear entrance. They lounged on the lawn with bagged lunches from home, different groups of friends were laughing at inside jokes—chatting away under the noon sun. It was obvious that Billy was an outsider, his classmates exuded a ease and comfort with one another that could only originate from growing up together. They each must have known everyone in their class since before the first grade.

Normally Billy would be somewhat jealous of his classmates; with their close-knit groups of friends and complete ease of interaction, but not today. He had under good authority that at least two people he had met since 7am considered Billy to be a friend. That was _double_ the amount of friends Billy had known for the majority of his life. 

Billy crossed the lawn that separated the art deco stucco pile of Lehnsherrberg High from the large mixed-use track and field which bordered the surrounding neighborhood of colonial houses. Bleachers climbed skyward on either side of the field; the compacted sand track curved around the wide swathe of untrimmed grass used by the school’s various sports programs, acting as a sort of wall between onlookers and players. Billy could see a grove of trees poking over the top of the empty bleachers at the far end of the field, that must be where Kate wanted to meet up. Where she’d finally reveal her plan, and how exactly it would help them both.

Billy was trying to keep his cool, he really was, but his mind kept wandering to the imminent meeting and to Teddy’s delicious dimples.

How could any plan of Kate’s stop Greg and his attack dog from picking on Billy? He had been tripped and _spat on_ because of one little snide comment on the bus. All he had done was call the guy a chowderhead, admittedly he shouldn't have done that, but still—just one comment. Any plan was starting to feel foolhardy if a couple of misplaced words was all it took to send Greg into offense-mode.

Maybe Billy should turn back and go find Teddy. There was a possibility that Teddy could help him with Greg and John; he had said that he knew them at one point, he’d know how to deal with their cruelty.  

The sharp edge of cruelty in Greg’s voice as he invited Teddy to sit next to him on the bus echoed through Billy’s mind. The sight of Teddy’s carefully put together facade falling apart as he edged closer to Greg—as improbable as it seemed, Teddy was also a victim. He had let Greg walk all over him on the bus, he allowed himself to be manhandled and jostled into subservience. No, that wasn’t fair, it wasn't Teddy’s fault; it was Greg’s. Whatever had happened between Greg and Teddy went way deeper than being tripped and spat on, he needed as much help as Billy; if not more.

_How can Greg have so much power over six-foot-tall blond wall-of-muscle Teddy?_

Billy had no choice but to go through with Kate’s plan, whatever it was. He could lie low and try not to get in Greg’s way, but that meant giving up and letting Greg claim victory. Billy was not going to let that happen; guys like Greg and John seriously needed to be taken down a few pegs, people shouldn’t be able to get away with treating others like complete garbage. There has to be consequences for cruelty, or at least some sort of peace on _Billy’s_ terms—not Greg’s.

The bleachers came to an end as the track gently arced to the right. Billy stepped onto the soft grass of a small meadow hidden between an old ivy-covered stone wall, which marked the edge of school grounds, and the dense metal latticework of the bleacher supports. He turned to face the grove of maples which bridged the divide between the bleachers and the wall; the trees were changing color now that summer had begun the slow transition to fall, the brilliant orange leaves of their canopies heightened the deep blue of the sky. Migratory birds darted between the branches as Billy made his way to the edge of the grove. He was examining a freshly carved heart on the trunk of the nearest tree, his fingers tracing the gash-like letters, when he heard a familiar voice come from somewhere above.

“Like my handiwork?” Kate asked as she gracefully dropped from a low hanging branch, landing a few feet behind Billy.

“Oh!” Billy whipped around in surprise, bumping into the trunk. “You can’t just sneak up on someone like that Kate,” he croaked with a nervous laugh.

Kate just grinned, resting her hand on her hip as she took a step closer. Billy always had trouble meeting a person’s eyes, Teddy being an unusual exception, so he looked back at the carving.

“You carved that?” 

“You bet.” Kate stood next to the tree, tracing the carved letters just as Billy had been doing moments earlier.

“I guess that explains the K.B.—but who’s E.B?”

“You’ll meet him soon enough,” she said with a mischievous twitch of her lips. She turned, starting to carefully make her way over roots and piles of slick leaves as she beckoned Billy to follow. “So, how’s your first day so far?” Kate asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.

“Erm—honestly? It’s been a rollercoaster,” Billy said, following Kate as she disappeared into the grove. “After this morning with… y’know. I was really happy to get that weight off my chest. I had been holding it inside me for so long, it felt so freeing to finally tell someone else. Then you sorta sprung this meeting on me, and I really haven't been able to focus on anything else since.”

Kate turned to look at Billy, giving him a quizzical expression. She kept an eye on the web of roots covering the ground as they continued to walk side by side, pushing their way deeper into the grove.

“I didn’t spring this on you, I said I had a plan when we were in the supply closet. The sooner we get to it, the better.”

“Huh, I guess that makes sense. Maybe it just didn’t really sink in until you disappeared after whispering in my ear,” Billy said, distracted by attempting to navigate the slippery undergrowth.

“That’s all that happened?” Kate asked, stopping to lean against a tree on the edge of a clearing. Her face turned soft and knowing. “Nothing else you want to tell me?”

_This girl seriously reads me too well._

“Well… yeah. There is something else.” Billy looked down at his shoes, now a little dirty from walking over muddy roots.

Kate reached out and lifted Billy’s chin, forcing him to look her straight in the eye.

“No point in being ashamed. Tell me what happened.”

Billy breathed in, trying to collect himself before he began. He made sure his eyes were locked on Kate’s, he wanted to show her that he had courage, that he wasn't ashamed. 

“I’m sure you know them—” Billy paused for a second, Kate’s jaw was already beginning to tighten. “—Greg and John have already chosen me as their next punching bag.” Kate’s hands clenched into fists; she knew them alright. She nodded and Billy continued, “They tripped me and… spat on me. They said that it was a warning, that if I get in their way again I’ll get much worse.” Billy tried to maintain control, but his voice came out as a hoarse whisper. He looked down at Kate’s shoes, tears collecting along his eyelids. “Kate… they called me a fairy, called me a queer, _they said that I was disgusting!_ ” 

Billy closed his eyes and let out a single sob, he could feel the tears roll down his cheeks. Less than his earlier confession, but the amount of tears locked up inside his body still shocked Billy. Actually describing the specifics of what had happened made him realize how truly messed up the whole situation had been. He was shaking—until he felt Kate’s hands firmly take hold of his shoulders. She pulled him into a tight hug, it was the second one she’d given him that day.

_I’m such a worthless mess!_

“You are _not_ disgusting Billy.”

“Kate, how’d they know? How can they tell what I am?”

Kate pulled out of the hug, still keeping her hands on Billy’s shoulders. She looked absolutely furious, he could see the muscles work beneath the pale skin of her elegant neck. She softened as she studied Billy’s face, her grey-blue eyes darting over every feature; similar to how Teddy had looked at him after he had helped Billy off the floor. Kate allowed a consoling smile to spread over her face as she let go of Billy’s right shoulder, the freed hand retrieving a disposable handkerchief from a hidden jacket pocket. She wiped away Billy’s tears with such care that he had to stop fresh tears from falling. Billy wasn't used to such acts of kindness, especially from someone who was essentially a stranger.

“They can’t tell Billy, those pieces of shit call every guy who is happily themselves those names—it’s just that you so happen to actually be gay.” Kate’s anger was rising again, seeing her angry on Billy’s behalf was quite cathartic. “Greg and John are Lehnsherrberg High’s own little fascists Billy, they are power hungry monsters who grasp onto any piece of information about someone they find and twist it around so they can use it as a weapon.” She paused, taking a shaky breath. He could tell that Kate was speaking from personal experience. “Greg and his group of jock-wannabe _idiots_ use their apparent popularity as a tool to justify abuse—ARGH! It’s just not fair! You just got here and already have to deal with this crap!” Kate completely let go of Billy and leaned back against the tree with a sharp huff, she brought her hand up to her mouth in a look of serious concentration. Billy could almost hear the gears turning under her beret.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t stand those two gorillas,” Kate said after a few deep breaths, her anger ebbing away. “You’re okay, right?”

Billy sniffed and wiped his face with the handkerchief. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just—what’s the plan?”

For a split second Kate recoiled in surprise, but then she grinned and grabbed hold of Billy’s hand. “The original plan only takes care of us, we have to come up with a second plan to take down those idiots,” she said as she led Billy into the clearing.

“Original plan?”

“Yeah, I think I owe you an explanation. Just hear us out first, it’s time—“

“Us? Time?” Billy asked, excitement slowly creeping into his voice.

“I’m getting to that! It’s time to meet E.B,” Kate said, flashing a quick smile over her shoulder.

 

-o-

 

Early afternoon light filtered lazily through the thinning canopies of the maple trees, casting the clearing in a orange-tinged glow. It wasn’t so much of a clearing per se, more of an area where the trees were further apart, allowing for swathes of blue sky to seep around the dead foliage. Billy could tell the trees were starting to decrease in age, the trunks becoming slender and fresh as height decreased—large sunbeams transforming the forest floor into a patchwork of light. As Kate led him to what Billy could only assume to be the center of the clearing, he noticed the sun-bleached ruins. 

Low lichen-encrusted rustic stone walls were visible through the trunks of young trees and fallen golden leaves. Billy stumbled over what appeared to be a rusty hunk of crumpled metal as Kate came to a stop, she let go of his hand and sat down on a mossy stone outcrop. Billy realized that he was seeing the exposed foundations of some old building the town had long ago forgotten. He could make out a set of low, worn steps leading to nothing between fallen branches and dead bushes; and he was sure that the eroded stump of stone Kate had claimed was the base of a ruined chimney.

“Kate, who’s this?”

Billy spun around as Kate leapt up and practically glided over to the source of the deep voice which caught him off guard. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, and in an increasingly heated conversation with Kate, was a dark-skinned boy dressed in a white T-shirt and worn blue jeans. He pulled off the ever-popular James Dean look really well, his annoyed-cool expression as he argued with Kate in a hushed voice being the figurative cherry on top.

They were only a few feet away from Billy, but it was obvious that they were in their own world. The way the boy grasped onto Kate’s elbow, how she slightly leaned into his body to hear his low mumbles, the subtle sparkle in his warm brown eyes as he looked at Kate—he had to be the ‘E.B.’ whose initials Kate had carved into the tree.

“What do you mean he can help us?” The boy asked, loud enough so Billy could finally hear what he was saying. 

“You know we have to stop my father from asking questions, not to mention Greg’s gossip factory,” Kate responded in a calm, slightly annoyed tone.

“Of course, but how does _he_ fit into it?” The boy gestured to Billy, his irritation written plainly on his face.

“Um, hi, I’m Billy Kaplan…” Billy interjected meekly, his statement hanging in the fragrant air.

Kate and her companion’s faces snapped to look at Billy, a wry grin spread over Kate’s face while the boy’s formed into an artfully contrived scowl. Kate grabbed the boy’s stocky hand, similar to how she constantly grabbed Billy’s, and led him closer to the low wall Billy had decided to use as a bench.

“I’m sorry Billy. This is Eli, my… boyfriend,” Kate said as she waved her hand with a little flourish in Eli’s direction. “And this is Billy, my new friend,” she continued, this time gesturing to Billy as she locked eyes with Eli.

“Hrmpf.” Eli crossed his deep-caramel arms over his broad chest. His scowl only intensified as he gazed down at Billy. The piercing expression Eli wore was losing potency, Billy was beginning to suspect that Eli’s irritation was all an act; a sort of charade he used to appear tougher or more in control. Maybe he played annoyed to hide what he was really thinking, to cover up his insecurities. 

“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on either! I’m still waiting for Kate to explain this plan of her’s.” 

Eli’s expression lightened, possibly even on the verge of a smile, as he looked from Billy to Kate.

“Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea Kate, what’s going on?” 

Billy had never seen Kate look embarrassed before, but he was sure that’s what he was witnessing as Kate slowly looked from Billy to Eli. She held her head high and back straight, even when she was embarrassed Kate still exuded the self-confidence which had drawn the whole bus’s attention that morning. Her cheeks were tinged the lightest shade of pink, and for the first time Kate was the one who couldn't hold steady eye contact.

“Well, Billy needs help hiding something, _we_ need help hiding something…” Kate looked at Eli and than back to Billy, shrugging. “I thought we could help each other out.”

Eli’s scowl was back—though it was never completely gone—as he responded, “Okay, but _how?_ ”

“What do you guys need to hide anyway?”

Billy must have interrupted with a stupid question, because both Kate and Eli were looking at him with sheer disbelief painted on their surprised faces. Eli recovered first, as he was the one to breach the silence.

“Billy, do you know what’s going on in this country, going on across _the whole world,_ right now?” Billy shook his head as Eli continued, “A black man could get strung up and _burned_ for even looking at a white woman the wrong way, I can’t even fathom what this town would do if they found out about me and Kate.”

“We don’t have to fathom, because they’ll never find out,” Kate interjected, attentive grey-blue eyes searching Billy’s face. “This stays just between us Billy.”

“I’m sorry. I—I should have known.” Billy let his eyes rest on his dirty shoes. “I would never breach your trust—“

“What _I_ don’t understand,” Eli interrupted, looking back to Kate. “Is what _he_ has to hide.” He pointed to Billy for emphasis while taking a step closer to Kate.

Kate looked at Billy with an eyebrow raised, Billy just nodded. Might as well tell Eli, Billy was now privy to their big secret, it was only fair Eli knew his. Kate stepped up to Eli and leaned in to whisper into his ear. It didn't really make any sense that Kate was taking such precautions, but it made Billy realize that Kate was right, he _could_ trust her. She wouldn’t reveal his secret unless he told her it was okay. In his head, Billy vowed to treat their secret with the same sense of care.

Eli’s change of expression was almost comical. His seemingly permanent scowl was immediately replaced by a brief look of shock, but then it softened into— _a grin?_

“Okay… I think I see where you’re going with this Kate.”

“I’m glad _someone_ knows what’s going on! Come on, I can’t be a part of this plan if I don’t know what the plan actually _is!_ ” Billy’s patience was quickly dwindling. He was tired of being kept out of the loop, and Teddy had to be waiting for him by now—sitting alone somewhere on the bleachers.

“Arn’t you supposed to be a nerd?” Kate teased, a playful smirk sneaking onto her face. “I would’ve thought you’d be the first to figure it out.”

It was Billy’s turn to scowl and cross his arms over his chest. “Well, just paint a picture for me, okay?”

Eli’s distorted expression was long gone, instead he was smiling to himself and laughing at Billy and Kate’s exchange—almost as if he knew what was coming next. Billy couldn’t blame him, he supposed Kate was a little ( _little)_ bit funny.

“Well, it’s simple really,” Kate said as she sat down on her mossy makeshift seat, tucking a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. “You just have to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“Wh— _OH!”_ His expression had to be priceless, because Kate was doing her best to stop from cracking up.

Eli let out a snort and a series of loud guffaws, Kate gave in—her laugh was just a tad bit more normal. Billy had to admit, he should’ve seen that coming from miles away. 

“The beauty is in the simplicity of it. All we have to do is hang out together and go on a public date, say, once a week,” Kate explained, wiping away some stray tears. “That way daddy-dearest doesn't ask questions, and you have unequivocal proof of your straightness.”

_This could actually work._

“Eli, you’re okay with this?” Billy had to ask, he knew Eli hadn’t known about the plan, and plus Kate was his _real_ girlfriend.

“Yeah, I mean, I figured that’s what Kate was planning. At first I wasn’t sure—I didn’t know you were gay, but it’s not like I’m going to loose her to you,” Eli confirmed, a small grin still stuck on his face from the absurdity of the situation. His smile faltered, a look of sudden worried comprehension dawning as he leaned forward. “Just no kissing, okay? Even if it’s fake, that’s where I draw the line.”

Billy arched an eyebrow and looked at Kate, she rolled her eyes in response as a knowing smile flashed across her lips. They both laughed and turned to look back at Eli.

“Kissing was never on the menu.”

“Hand holding is fine with me!” 

 

-o- 

 

The trip out of the grove, though Billy realized ‘small forest’ was a more accurate description, was way easier than the trip in. Kate and Eli had stayed behind at the ruins, a little-known make out spot the couple had decided to utilize, leaving Billy to carefully pick his way over the network of slick roots and colorful leaves alone. Billy was happy for them, it was endearing how they faced the stupidity of the world together with such strength. He wanted to see them happy, even if Eli didn't seem to like him that much, and he was going to do his very best to protect their secret. _Our secret._

He didn't want to find out how the town would react if Kate and Eli’s relationship became public. Eli had made it out to be a life or death situation, and he was probably right—there’s no saying what Kate’s father would do if the truth was revealed. That’s why Kate had come up with her plan, to create a sort of social diversion so nobody would feel the need to ask questions about her private life, so nobody would get hurt. That’s why Billy had agreed to go along with the plan, he too needed to dispel those constant questions and rumors which followed him around everywhere. It was just easier to project a lie than to change the way the world worked.

_And isn’t that profoundly sad?_

It felt a little wrong, to finally admit the truth to someone only to immediately hide it away, but it simply wasn't possible for Billy to wholly be himself in public. He had already been bullied his whole life for being a nerd; he had always been the one who didn't fit in, the easy punching bag for insecure bullies trying to prove that they were ‘normal.’ Billy could only imagine how much worse it would be if everyone knew his secret. Brief suspicions are one thing, they led to being pushed around and aching bruises, but outright knowledge is a whole other ballpark— _How different would I be treated if the whole town knew that I_ _like guys?_

Billy didn't know, _couldn’t_ know, and that’s what terrified him.

He had been really lucky that Kate had turned out to be so trustworthy, so understanding. Billy hadn’t known that she, like him, had a grave secret that she was hiding. Sure it had turned out to be of a different nature, but at least Kate could comprehend what it was like to have the worldview of others as an enemy. It had been a complete accident that he told her the truth in that supply closet, of course the idea of confessing had crossed his mind once it became obvious that they’d be friends; but not _in a closet_. Billy’s confession sort of just bubbled out of him once Kate had reassured him that it was okay. He had held it in for a long time over so many _years_ , it was almost like he was waiting for an excuse to tell someone, anyone, and Kate had merely provided the perfect situation.

He really didn't want to dwell on what would have happened if Kate _hadn’t_ been so supportive.

No, Billy felt like he had definitely made the right decision when he told Kate the truth, but he really should be more careful, he really had been lucky that Kate wasn’t a rampant homophobe like everyone else.

A sudden gush of wind rustled the orange and red canopies overhead, sending hundreds of colorful shriveled leaves falling around him in graceful spirals. Billy was at the edge of the grove now, the sudden transition from dark forest to bright meadow sending his eyes into a flurry of successive blinks. He had exited right next to the tree which bore Kate’s carving, the deep cuts already oozing with restorative sap. At his current oblique angle, Billy noticed something about the tree which he had somehow missed earlier. 

It was _covered_ in carvings.

Most of them were much older than Kate’s, scattered around the trunk in small clumps of four or five, differing degrees of bark growth belying the many cuts. Kate’s was merely the largest and newest, the utter freshness of the lines distracting the eye from the countless subtler markings almost erased by time. Billy slowly circled the tree, looking for other prominent carvings. On the side opposite Kate’s sap-drenched heart was the next newest carving, or at least that’s what Billy suspected. It was small, tiny even, tucked into a crease of the tree. Billy would've missed it had he not been at the correct angle, whoever made it had obviously tried to keep it hidden. The markings were undoubtedly the second brightest, but the discoloration led Billy to assume that the shallow gashes were at least a year old.

Or maybe the neat markings were just as fresh as Kate’s, less than an hour old, and Billy was just in denial.

**_T.A. + G.N._ **

He recognized the initials.

Well, half of them. He couldn't forget the white ’T.A.’ with gold stitching emblazoned across Teddy’s chest, or Teddy’s warm _enthrallingly_ deep voice as he replied, “Theodore Altman, sir,” when Mr. Baron had asked his name. There must be other students with Teddy’s initials, but some inexplicable feeling deep inside told him that the carving referred only to Teddy.

Billy quickly walked away from the tree, fists shoved deep into his pockets, slowing as he meandered across the annoyingly pleasant meadow toward the track and field. 

It was selfish of him to feel sad, but Billy couldn't stop the emotion from seeping into his psyche. Of course, he _knew_ Teddy was straight—almost everyone was—and he shouldn't feel sad or angry because his pathetic crush couldn't become something more. All those looks and touches, they were all accidents and coincidences turned into meaningful interactions by a nerdy loser—how had Billy ever thought, even for a moment, that a jock like Teddy could ever feel anything but begrudging friendship toward someone like him? It was probably a good thing that Billy’s delusions had come crashing down, now that he knew Teddy had (or has) a girlfriend he could get over his feelings and just be normal friends with the beautiful boy. If that was even possible.

As Billy felt the crunch of compacted sand track beneath his feet, he couldn't help but guess at who this ‘G.N.’ girl was. She had to be gorgeous, probably just as blonde and blue-eyed as Teddy himself. She must be a cheerleader, or maybe she was really smart and on the debate team, _or_ maybe she was both—head cheerleader and debate captain. She was kind and sweet; she enjoyed Teddy’s presence as much as Billy, her blue eyes gazing up into his as she laughs at his undoubtedly stupid jokes. Her eyelids get heavy when she tilts her head back, making it easier for Teddy to lean down and ki— _UGH._

That was _not_ helping. 

Accidentally living vicariously through perfect Grace, Gillian, Gwen, _Gweniffer,_ or _whatever_ her name is; was not okay, and totally weird. Chances are she’s long gone, if Teddy had a girlfriend would he be so worried about who Billy sits with during lunch? Probably not, so that means Teddy is single, yes, but also straight and—  

“Hey, Billy!”

—waiting for Billy to show up and keep him company on the bleachers.

Billy twisted around to face the source of that expectant, soothing voice.

Half-way up on the empty bleachers Teddy stood waving, book bag and letter jacket draped on the bench behind him. His light grey shirt rode up as he waved, revealing swathes of honey-colored tan skin and a dizzying trail of golden hair disappearing beneath the elastic of Teddy’s underwear. His grin was ear to ear, dimples shining like stars; the utter _intensity_ of his dazzling expression made Billy take a short, shuttering breath. He had never been smiled at like that before, like someone had truly been looking forward to seeing him. Billy couldn’t help but smile in return, waving back as he felt his cheeks and ears slowly redden. Teddy stopped waving, a slight flush settling over his cheeks, and brought his broad hands to either side of his beaming lips.  

“Come on up!” 

“I am!” Billy shouted back, grin and blush rising.

He began climbing over the extruded aluminum benches, slowly gaining altitude as he got closer to Teddy’s laughing form. The warmth of his laugh, the softness and care behind the melodic sound, let Billy know that he wasn’t being made fun of or mocked—it was a laugh among friends. It really didn’t matter that Teddy was straight, Billy knew that he couldn't stop crushing on the blond boy smiling down at him, and that was actually alright; at least as long as Billy didn’t do anything stupid, like try to kiss him.

“You know that there are stairs, right?” Teddy teased as Billy hauled himself over the second-to-last bench.

“Huh?" 

“Right over there, doofus,” Teddy pointed to the left, laughter still tinged his voice. 

Billy followed Teddy’s finger to a flight of steps just ten feet away. “Oh, I guess I should probably take those next time…”

Teddy laughed again, bubbly and contagious. He flashed a glittering grin down at Billy, full and beautiful— _genuine_. After so many fake expressions Billy had seen Teddy paste on, his real smile, especially up close, was breathtaking. Billy didn’t care about any Gweniffer; Teddy was smiling at _him_ like that, and that was worth the world.

He gazed up into Teddy’s blue eyes and grinned.

 

-o-

 

The concrete steps were hot from the mid-afternoon sun. Billy supposed he should be relishing in the last vestiges of summer heat, but it didn’t help that his hand stung every time he tried to lean back and get comfortable on the front steps of the high school. He was almost alone, most students had already left for home or were still inside trying out the various clubs and extracurricular activities the school offered, only a few still milling around the wide front lawn. 

Billy would’ve already been home too, if his usually punctual mother wasn’t running crazy late.

He didn’t really mind waiting though, he needed time to calm down, and besides the sun felt nice on his face and the lighting was perfect for drawing. Billy opened the notebook Kate had given him (he’d already filled up the first six pages with notes and doodles) and flipped to the next empty page, looking around for an interesting facade or tree to sketch. 

Over the lawn and across the road, Billy was able to look straight down Center Street, the main drag bisecting downtown Lehnsherrberg. He was able to see the neat colonial and victorian houses and shops slowly march up the hill to Founder’s Square, where the three spires of Lehnsherrberg Courthouse, the First Presbyterian Church, and the Old Meetinghouse vied for dominance over a sea of tidy slate roofs. Beyond the spires, the hill grew steeper and taller until the houses thinned out to be replaced by a kaleidoscope of colorful trees. Billy knew that the Atlantic Ocean rested just over the hill’s crest, at the bottom of the sheer granite walls of Penobscot Cliffs—named for the tribe who used to live along the Maxinoff River. At the highest point of the hill, the black and white striped Lehnsherrberg Lighthouse brooded over the town and ocean.

Billy could see it all with one glance like some romantic New England postcard, all from the steps of Lehnsherrberg High. He just had to attempt to capture it all in one drawing, it was such a breathtaking view that none of the locals seemed to notice.

He sketched, and got lost in thought.

Lunch with Teddy had ended far too quickly, minutes just seemed to slip by when he was around the other boy. Their conversation had the ease and familiarity of old friends, flowing naturally from topic to topic, not turning awkward as they tried to get to know each other. So the look of disappointment on Teddy’s face as the distant, _distant_ , sound of the school bell cut him off mid-sentence was mutual. When the irritating bell ceased, Teddy turned to look at him with a serious expression on his face, eyebrows low and scrunched.

“Do bells keep interrupting you too?” He had asked in a small voice, the corner of his mouth twitching up— _what an absolute dork_.

Billy snorted, a smile replacing the look of vague annoyance that must have dominated his face seconds earlier. Teddy grinned triumphantly in response, another one of his award-winning smiles which made Billy’s heart flutter. Billy just didn't understand why he was the one lucky enough to receive such beautiful gifts.

Teddy’s smile stayed with him all the way through Honors Calculus, in fact it was the only thing that got him through that class.

Out of all the people Billy hadn’t expected to be sitting in a honors class, John was at the top of the list. From the moment Billy entered the classroom, he felt John’s cutting stare on his back—following him as he made his way across the class and sat down at a empty desk in the front row. Billy didn’t even glance at the lumbering auburn-haired boy more than once, but could still feel his eyes on him occasionally. His stare started to feel threatening and all Billy could do to quiet his panic was concentrate on the memory of Teddy’s smile, the thought of his blue eyes shockingly comforting.

It also didn’t help that the subject of the class he shared with one of his bullies was math. Billy wasn’t particularly good at math, at anything really—except for English and History, but he worked hard and studied constantly; so focusing was essential for Billy to succeed. 

Paying attention was almost impossible when he could feel John’s searingly violent gaze on the back of his neck. Billy had found himself stumbling and lost during Mrs. Mann’s review of trigonometry, he couldn’t even take notes without feeling violated by eyes dragging over his body. Calculus was such a disaster that for the first time in known history, Billy Kaplan had eagerly looked forward to the bell announcing the beginning of Gym.

Billy’s pencil snapped, sending shards of graphite scattering across his drawing. He lifted the notebook and blew the graphite away, the drawing fortunately undamaged. He sat back and compared the drawing to the wonderful view— _almost identical_. Billy always did his best work when he wasn't thinking about it, when he was lost in memories. 

He opened the pouch at the front of the notebook, retrieved a new pencil, and continued shading the drawing.

Coach Farley had stood at the entrance to the Boy’s Locker Room, a grid of cubbies integrated into the blue tile wall behind him—cheery smile under his salt and pepper mustache. Students formed a line in front of him as he dispensed green and white uniforms from the cubbies along with locker numbers and combinations. He had frowned when Billy had advanced to the front of the line, briefly looking him over as he dropped a uniform into Billy’s outstretched hands, the slip of paper with his locker number on it performing somersaults as it fell to the ground.

Billy had to bunch up his uniform under one arm to reach down and grab the piece of paper, Coach Farley hadn’t even moved to catch it as it fell. 

What was his deal? Billy wasn't _that_ small—the coach had even given him a medium uniform. Had Coach Farley been able to discern Billy’s complete lack of sporting skills with just one look? If that really was the case, his actions were severely messed up.  

Billy had found his locker almost immediately, jamming it open as he began to disrobe. Steam floated through the air from the open showers in the next room, making the locker room especially humid and sticky. Condensation clung to the blue tiled walls and floor, scattering the overhead lights into thousands of pinpoint reflections across the room. Billy felt the moisture cling to his sweater as he pulled it over his head, good thing he hadn’t worn cashmere. 

He was keenly aware of his classmates in various forms of undress around him, they were chatting and laughing as if they _weren’t_ basically naked in their tighty-whities. Billy was far from the skinniest or palest boy in the room, so he didn't feel especially self-conscious unbuttoning his shirt and pulling off his pants—it wasn’t like Teddy was there to see him. He sat on the slippery wooden bench between the rows of lockers to disentangle his pants from his shoes. He hadn't brought a set of tennis shoes, so he had to wear his slightly muddy oxfords to class—as if he wasn’t weird looking enough. As Billy was freed from his pants, he stood up and happened to glance down the next row of lockers.

That had been a mistake.

Teddy stood at the end of the row next to an open locker with the leg of his jeans dangling out. He was struggling to get out of his light grey shirt, arms above his head and body taut. Billy felt himself blush but couldn't avert his eyes, it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

Teddy’s legs were covered in a light layer of fine blond hair, his thigh muscles sleek and lean with power. Billy couldn’t help but look at the way Teddy’s underpants cupped and held his bulge, his penis barely contained behind mere millimeters of bleached cotton. Billy’s mouth was agape and he felt himself stir—but he couldn't stop looking, his eyes panning up the trail of golden hair leading to Teddy’s navel. His abs weren’t chiseled, but gently defined above the sharp _v_ of his hips. His torso was lightly obscured by steam, the incandescent lights making Teddy’s beautiful skin glow through the refracting moisture. 

The steam twisted around his powerful body, giving everything a hazy definition, making everything fuzzy and erotic. Teddy was obviously strong, but seeing the coiled and taut lines of his muscles moving beneath his golden skin and glimmering steam drove the point straight home, if not a bit further down.  

The broad planes of Teddy’s chest were more defined than his abs, a light smattering of hair curling around his delicate pink nipples and small tufts between the soft bevels of his pecs. Billy took a stifled breath as his eyes kept moving up to Teddy’s wide shoulders, they were at least twice as broad as Billy’s, the elegant arc where his sculptural neck met his shoulders brimming with potential power. Billy’s eyes kept moving up to—

—meet Teddy’s piercing blue eyes.

He had freed his head from his tangled shirt, bulging biceps framing his red face as the shirt draped between his forearms. He moistened his parted lips and stared at Billy, eyes darting down and then back up—an imperceptible expression painted across his stunning features.

Billy’s blush deepened, the heat tickling his neck. He was suddenly aware of the way his body had been reacting, his underwear noticeably tighter and palms sweaty. He turned and ran back to his locker, unable to even look at Teddy again. Nobody else seemed to notice what Billy had been doing, but the one person who had was the only one who mattered. 

Teddy had seen him looking, and instead of getting angry like anyone else would, he was embarrassed and ashamed—for Billy. Even after being visually violated by some guy he barely knew, Teddy was still impossibly nice. Billy couldn’t believe that he'd let himself look for so long, letting his stupidly irrational crush get in the way of a possible friendship. 

Teddy wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, would he? If he did, Billy would also be responsible for ruining Kate’s plan.

_I’ve ruined everything!_  

Billy couldn’t even glance at Teddy for the rest of Gym, looking away whenever his eyes accidentally grazed blond hair.

He had felt like he was John staring at the back of his own head.

Billy stopped mid cross-hatch, lifting the pencil away from the page. The embarrassment of the past was creeping into the present. Billy felt himself pink at the memories, mortification rising back to the surface. It was still fresh, Gym only ending half an hour ago. He wished he could go back in time and snap himself out of it, make his past-self look away and get on with changing. Billy should have known better, should have known that Teddy wasn’t going to be a lasting friend—not that the beautiful boy had done anything wrong.

He was back down to only one friend, purely due to his own lack of self control. At least nobody else noticed what had happened—the way Billy’s eyes devoured Teddy’s perfect body. 

There was a sharp click and the sound of shoes on concrete as someone left Lehnsherrberg High’s main entrance at the top of the stairs. The silence was broken by a small, sad sigh as the footsteps came to a stop; curiosity causing Billy to twist around and look up the wide steps.

Teddy stood at the top of the steps, book bag slung over one shoulder, a hand tight around the strap. His cheeks were bright pink and he was looking away from Billy. Billy blanched, a pang of remorse reverberating through his body. Teddy just stood there, as if he wasn’t sure what to do; how to act in front of his violator. Billy had to do something to fix this, to at least _try_.

“Teddy, I’m s—" 

Teddy turned to look at him, shame painting his face, and Billy drew a sharp intake of air.

There was a two-inch long scrape across Teddy’s cheek, deep enough to only draw a few pinpricks of blood. Billy eyes darted over Teddy’s face and body in search of more damage. Teddy’s right hand, clenched around the strap of his bag, was pink and raw—abrasions visible across his knuckles. Billy also noticed that the other strap of his bag was broken, frayed end hanging limply in the air. Something had happened, someone had done this to him.

Billy set aside his notebook and got up, rushing up the few steps that separated him from Teddy. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and gently rested his hand on Teddy’s shoulder.

“Teddy, what happened?” His voice was quiet, barely louder than a whisper.

Teddy looked at him, sadness deep behind his blue eyes. It took all Billy had to not reach his other arm around Teddy and hug him, bringing him in tight. Somebody had hurt him, more than Billy had, and Billy’s unwanted affection would only make it worse. It would be a miracle if he even responded. 

“It’s nothing Billy, I just, uh… tripped into a window,” he said, flashing a half-hearted fake smile—even for him. “Those frames are pretty sharp.”

Billy gave him a pointed look, but if Teddy didn’t want to tell Billy, that was up to him. It wasn’t like Billy could be trusted after staring at him like some sort of pervert in the locker room.

“Don’t worry Billy. Please?” His voice was earnest, the look in his eyes hopeful. 

_Wait, is he even mad at me? Even after what I did?_

“Okay… but if this happens again we’ll have to march up to Andelbrott’s office and demand the school replace all these _extra-sharp_  window frames that go around cutting up perfectly good faces.” He flashed Teddy a small smile, and was pleased to see the other boy’s surprise and the genuinely bashful smile which followed. Maybe Teddy still wanted to be friends after all. “Come on, lemme show you something.”

Billy led Teddy down the steps to where his notebook rested, discarded half open on the step. He sat down and patted the concrete next to him. Teddy hesitated for a brief moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, when he opened them again he dropped his bag and sat down.

_Silence._

“What do you see?” Billy asked, cutting the air as he gestured across the lawn to the view. 

“The town?” He asked, confusion creeping into his voice.

“Well, _duh_ , but what about it?” Billy bent down to pick up his notebook and pencil, flipping it back to the page he’d been working on. 

Teddy looked at the view again, and then down to the open page on Billy’s lap. His eyes brightened with recognition as a wide smile broke across his face, gorgeous as always. He reached over and picked up the notebook, looking from it to the view and back again. 

“Wow Billy, I didn’t know you could draw!” He looked up from the drawing to meet Billy’s eyes. The sadness in his pure blue eyes was gone, instead replaced by something else, something _new_ —Billy’s breath hitched when he realized Teddy was looking at him with something like adoration. “I like the way you see the world.”

Billy blushed, probably as red as a tomato, and looked away. He wasn't used to praise, especially when it was so real and visceral. He couldn’t stop the pleased smile from dancing across his lips, everything felt so _right_ when Teddy looked at him like that. “Th—thanks.”

Teddy set the notebook down and twisted around to open his book bag. He took out a medium-sized sketchbook that looked both equally worn and loved. Teddy flashed a sheepish grin, and handed the book to Billy.

Billy opened the first page and gasped—it was beautiful.

The page depicted a middle-aged blonde woman in a housedress curled up with a book on a comfy looking green armchair. Light streamed in from an open window, dappling her face in gold. The whole page was watercolored, every surface textured with some abstract colorful design. Blue spirals for the floor, vertical orange and pink stripes for the walls—everything unified by lavender shadows and golden light.

“This is amazing Teddy,” he said in awe, looking over to see Teddy duck his head and flush. “Who is this?” 

“My mom, I always like to capture her when she’s relaxing.”

“I can’t even draw people, or even paint!” Billy exclaimed, unable to tear his eyes away from the drawing. “Thanks for sharing this with me.”

“Hey, mayb—“ 

Teddy was interrupted by a sudden car horn, a shrill jarring call. Billy looked across the lawn to the street, as he expected his mother was sitting in her brand new Plymouth Fury; waiting for Billy to hop in. He turned back to Teddy, hoping he looked apologetic.

“Sorry, that’s my mother. What were you saying?” He asked, carefully handing Teddy’s sketchbook back to him as he picked up his own notebook and pencils.

Teddy smiled, pink swirling over his cheeks. “Just if maybe sometime we could, uh, do a collaboration piece?”

Billy grinned, “Of course! I’d love to.” 

He got up and turned to face Teddy, he was about to ask if they were okay after the whole locker room incident; but looking down into Teddy’s pleased expression, Billy decided against it. They were obviously okay, more than okay even, and asking that would just make things awkward. Maybe he should bring it up after they were friends for more than a day, or maybe it should remain unsaid between them forever.

Instead, he said, “Bye Teddy, see you tomorrow." 

“Bye, Billy.”

Teddy looked up at him with a stunning grin, his eyes crinkled and lips blossomed as dimples pierced his cheeks. Billy couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of that smile, he knew he’d be replaying it in his mind over and over as his mother drove them home. He ducked his head and looked away, turning to walk across the lawn.

Teddy’s smiles were contagious, his own grin spreading. 

_What a crazy day._  

As he neared the light blue ’58 Plymouth his father had bought his mother before the move, he thought he saw a girl sitting in the back seat. When he tried to look directly at her, all he saw was an empty expanse of pleated egg-shell white leather. He put the odd trick of the light out of his mind as he opened the door and sat down next to his mother.

“Who was that, Billy?” His mother asked once she had put the car in gear and started driving. 

“Oh,” Billy said, looking out the passenger window at the beautiful boy. “A friend.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First days are rough, huh? Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it! Any constructive criticism is actively welcome, there are a few areas I feel like I need to improve on, so please help me out. Also looking for possible betas since this will be a loooong fic.
> 
> Most chapters will be between 10k and 25k words, though more action packed than this one for sure. This one basically sets up the dominos for them to fall.
> 
> I'd like to thank Cris-art for her fabulous artwork which inspired this fic, Specifically the pieces she uploaded around March 2015 on her tumblr, they are what gave me the idea for a 50's supernatural/horror universe.
> 
> http://cris-art.tumblr.com/image/113059548823  
> http://cris-art.tumblr.com/image/112869302708  
> http://cris-art.tumblr.com/image/114625729808
> 
> I understand that the Kaplan family dynamics seem to be all messed up here (not to mention that they're eating bacon; that's not an accident), but don't worry, the characters are at their core the same: this story is all about false faces.
> 
> Any questions about specific parts of the fic I can answer here later!
> 
> Thanks guys!


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